


Worlds Finest

by counterheist



Series: Viktuuri Week 2017 [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AU Prompt: Role Swap/Superpowers, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Identity Porn, M/M, Victuuri Week 2017, day three
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 07:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9645653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/counterheist/pseuds/counterheist
Summary: Intrepid journalist Yuuri Katsuki gets an assignment to interview billionaire international playboy slash ditz Viktor Nikiforov. Superman and Batman thwart a hostage situation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thoroughly unbeta'd.

“And what about you?” Nikiforov asks, playing with his pen. He clicks the nib down, then up, then down. He hasn’t paid Yuuri his full attention since Yuuri walked through his office door. “You live in a city with a hero too. Not that anyone can call Batman a hero! He’s so rude. Don’t you think? But everyone knows Superman’s _so_ heroic. So what do you think of yours?”

Yuuri sighs. He’s been doing that a lot this interview. “I’m not the one people want to know about, Mr. Nikiforov.”

“ _Viktor_ ,” Nikiforov whines. Click. Click click.

This is a favor for Yuuko, Yuuri reminds himself. Yuuko with three sick children. Yuuko who begged Celestino for this assignment. Yuuri can admit he was excited to take over for her, to get to see Viktor Nikiforov up close, but he’s rapidly realizing that Viktor Nikiforov is best appreciated from far, far away. Yuuri could stare at him from the other side of the moon and it might not be far enough. “Superman does some useful things,” he says, “but back to Batman.”

“ _Some useful things_ ,” Nikiforov repeats, aghast. He even sets down the pen. Yuuri must have struck a nerve. He didn’t realize Nikiforov actually had any. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this! What sort of son of Fukuoka are you? Have you no pride?!”

Yuuri blinks. He adjusts his tie in a bid to hold in an unprofessional bout of ugly laughter. “I’m not actually from Fukuoka,” he says, “and if you want to give no comment on Batman that’s fine. Let’s talk about the gala Nikiforov Industries is hosting tomorrow night. My sources tell me the Saint Petersburg police have received a tip that the Freeze Witch has promised to show up and destroy it. Are you worried?”

Nikiforov leans forward, elbows planted on the desk between them. His face is the most serious it’s been since they started this an hour ago. To be honest it’s the most serious Yuuri’s ever seen it, and Yuuri had to do two whole years as Yuuko’s underling at the foreign affairs desk. Thing is, Yuuri’s seen a lot of photographs of Viktor Nikiforov’s face. Most of them were even for workplace purposes. “I have every confidence Yakov will handle the security without issue for my little event. Now. I really do want to hear what it is you have against Superman. He’s a particular favorite of mine.” Nikiforov’s eyes are very cold in person. Yuuri only realizes he’s staring after the fact. “I won’t take no for an answer, Mr. Katsuki.”

The way he pronounces it makes Yuuri feel like he’s just been half undressed and then slapped for disobedience. He feels the hair rise up at the back of his neck. “I don’t,” he stumbles through his words, “ _Mr. Nikiforov._ You. Superman is. Okay.” Yuuri takes a calming breath and does his best not to let too much of his discomfort bleed into his voice. He has a lot of feelings about Superman. He tries not to talk about them with anyone but Phichit and his mother. “Superman does some useful things,” he starts. “But he has the capacity to do so much more. He. He doesn’t save everyone. He has such amazing powers, but so many people still die every day calling out his name! I don’t like to talk about him because I think he could do better. He _needs_ to do better. The rest of the press is too soft on him.”

Yuuri realizes he’s shaking when Nikiforov rests a hand on his. The gesture presses Yuuri’s pen uncomfortably into his palm. Is he crying?

No.

Good.

“No one can save everyone,” Nikiforov says gently. “It’s just not possible, Mr. Katsuki. And no one can even dream of saving as many people as Superman already has.”

There’s something to the edge of their conversation right now that Yuuri is afraid to touch. He feels every thread of his disguise in painful detail beneath his cheap suit. He wants to adjust his glasses again, but he also refuses to pull his hand away before Nikiforov does. “He’s brought a lot of problems to the Earth,” Yuuri says. He’s never voiced these thoughts aloud before. He wonders when Nikiforov will throw him out of his office.

“Those weren’t his fault. And he’s fixed more than have started since he first appeared in Fukuoka.”

“He causes too much collateral damage.”

“There would be more if he didn’t intervene.”

“His outfit is ridiculous.”

“I, for one, _love_ the suit.” Nikiforov licks his upper lip. “The suit hides nothing.”

He’s right about that. The suit hides nothing and it gives Yuuri no end of anxiety. He wonders if the people of Krypton just didn’t have shame or if they meant it as a joke.

Yuuri would keep going – he has ten thousand and one reasons why he doesn’t like himself, both of his selves – but a smooth voice interrupts him. Nikiforov’s assistant has opened the door to the office and is waiting impatiently there, clearly frazzled. Yuuri imagines her life is difficult. Nikiforov is notoriously difficult to corral, or so he’s read. “Viktor,” the assistant says, “they’re waiting for you in Wing B-1. I’ve been paging you for _twenty minutes_.”

Nikiforov pulls back and Yuuri finds himself missing the proximity, which is terrible and he needs to stop right now. Stop everything. He stands. Nikiforov follows suit lazily. “And you’ve managed to pick the lock on my office in record time, too, I’m proud of you, Sara! I’ll be along. Tell them I’ve been busy telling a reporter about the gala and definitely not my personal life.”

Sara disappears down the hallway and Nikiforov grabs Yuuri’s hand again, raises it to his lips to kiss it. “We’ll have to do this again sometime, Mr. Katsuki. As the president and founder of the Superman Fan Club it’s my sworn duty to convert all nonbelievers such as yourself. Now. I’ve got to go pretend I understand what some lab coats are talking about. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

He winks and sweeps out of his office in a whirl, leaving Yuuri behind, gaping.

His salvation comes in the form of screams tickling the edges of his hearing. He runs for the stairwell like it’s his personal savior.

* * *

Viktor plants a boot in one would-be bank robber’s back. He pushes off as the idiot falls and uses his momentum to carry through a spin kick to another’s face. A cross block, two batarangs, and a bit of wire later and he’s got the entire team strung up and waiting for the Saint Petersburg police.

He melts into the darkness as the sound of sirens edge closer.

He enjoys melting into the darkness. Above everything else that’s probably his favorite part of being a lunatic vigilante in a suit. The hours aren’t great, and neither are the broken bones, or his wounded pride at having to pretend to be a shallow piece of shit during the day. The stab wounds are a let down, and the other ‘heroes’ and ‘villains’ he meets make him slowly lose his faith in humanity. So the melting is great because it’s cool, and he’s allowed to have simple pleasures every once in a while.

And if he loses his faith in humanity there’s always Krypton.

As he jumps from rooftop to rooftop, edging around the more crowded parts of the city and down towards the docks, he wonders what Katsuki will end up printing. It’s no secret Viktor Nikiforov is enamored of Superman – with that bone structure, those legs, that steely _sense of justice_ , who wouldn’t be? But those are the only things Viktor Nikiforov is supposed to care about. Silly Vitya with his silly infatuations. Viktor wonders if it would be too much to give an entire interview about Superman’s abs.

Or if he can get Katsuki to do it.

He was pretty cute, Viktor thinks, for such a cynic. He should send him a tux for the gala. In clothes that actually fit him Katsuki might even be arm-candy level attractive. Silly Vitya might not be well-matched to an investigative journalist, but Viktor has to allow himself some enjoyment every now and again. Spending every night with socialites is beginning to wear on him.

“Vitya,” he hears over the communicator in his cowl, “The Penguin has taken a nightclub hostage. 34th and Pine.”

Viktor seamlessly switches direction and wonders if Superman ever has these problems.

By the time he swings down to 34th and Pine from a nearby skyscraper the entire building is on fire and it’s spreading outward from the nightclub. There’s a pet store next door. Batman is not equipped to deal with this shit, he thinks, but he slips around to the back alley entrance anyway. Think of Superman, he tells himself. Superman is strong and kind and would save those puppies. You’ve got bat-themed stun grenades and a grudge and would also save those puppies.

He checks on the nightclub first.

There are penguins everywhere inside it, and hostages, and fire. There’s a lot of fire. Also, Superman.

“What the hell are you doing in my town,” Viktor hears himself growl. Damn. There goes his first impression.

Superman stares back at him, evenly, calmly, beautifully, and punches The Penguin in his scraggly jaw without looking. Viktor feels his heart flutter behind approximately thirty pounds of Kevlar. The Penguin flies through a wall from the force of the blow.

“I was. Around,” Superman says. His eyes are stunning. And then, suddenly they are bright blue and everything is much colder and not on fire at all. Huh. Ice vision. God, Viktor wishes he could study every inch of Superman. He’s _amazing_.

“Get the fuck out of my town,” Viktor hears himself growl. Again with the growling. He’s got to figure out a better way to disguise his voice.

After that there isn’t much of a fight to speak of. With the fire gone and their leader unconscious the penguins slink back into the back of the police van out front with little prompting. _What you gonna do_ , their oddly anthropomorphic expressions seem to say, _work is work_.

Viktor only remembers the puppies when he sees that Superman has gone over to check on their welfare and is now covered in them. There’s a little miniature poodle licking his face. The part of Viktor that really isn’t any different from Silly Vitya deeply wants to take a picture of this for his forum signature. He doesn’t because he does have discipline, somewhere. He keeps it in his utility belt.

This time he doesn’t melt into the darkness so much as flee into it, and he pauses on the nearest rooftop to collect himself. He’s not that surprised when Superman flies down a minute later, but it doesn’t mean he’s any more prepared.

“…thanks,” he mutters.

Superman smiles wryly back at him. It reminds Viktor, strangely, of Katsuki. It’s an uncomfortable kind of smile.

“I couldn’t stand by and do nothing,” Superman says.

Viktor nods, and for the sake of his reputation that should be that. Instead he finds himself reaching out a gloved hand. After a beat, Superman takes it.

* * *

Yuri loses his shit when Viktor gets back to the cave and tells him he got to touch Superman.


End file.
